Butterflies and Flowers
by meow-chan
Summary: Like Butterflies and flowers, everyone blooms at different times, everyone has their time to shine. Hermione is coming back to school changed for the better. How will the school react to her sassy new appearance?? will she be able to handle it? R&R!!!
1. A New Look

FIRST HP FIC!!!!!!!!!! ^___________^  
  
I read this really good one, I think it's called the walking encyclopedia or the living encyclopedia (forgot) and it was about Hermione and Draco and it was really actually (even if it was slightly cliché in the beginning). So I wanted to write my own. ^___^  
  
Discalimer: I don't own HP characters. I WAS a fire-breathing monkey a former life though. Doesn't that count?  
  
That was random. Anyways, on with the story!!!! ^___________^  
  
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At age 17, her last year at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, was slowly crawling toward her. Furious studying, then final exams, then a real career in the wizarding world. So much to worry about. She sighed, amazed at how quickly her years at Hogwarts had passed her by.  
  
She was sprawled across her bed; her potions book in her hands. It was a lazy Sunday and she had nothing better to do than to get an early start on her studying. But at the moment, she did not want to study. In fact, she didn't really want to do anything.  
  
She sat up, groggy from doing nothing all day, and found herself staring at her reflection in the large vanity mirror stationed at the foot of her bed. Her image, as the mirror told her, had long flowing rich chocolate brown curls that hung gracefully over her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep shade of earthly brown, her lashes long, and her eyebrows slim and delineated. Judging from the length of her legs, she was perhaps a few inches above the average height.  
  
She tilted her head in deep thought, remembering what her appearance had been for the last six years. A mass of bushy brown hair enveloping her head, criticizing sharp eyes, and shamefully large front teeth. She frowned at the mental image. She hadn't been very gentle on the eyes, she suspected bitterly. But no worries, she told herself, grinning at the mirror.  
  
The girl I see now is none other then Hermione Granger.  
  
Hermione flashed a satisfied smile to herself. She had grown weary of so many jeers and taunts from others. "bucked-tooth brunette", "frizz queen", "book worm", she had heard every single one. And she finally resolved to do something about it at the end of sixth year.  
  
The fresh-out-of-sixth-year Hogwarts students knew only one place that could get even HER to obtain her desires. And that was "Lapis Lazuli Salon and Spa". It was a place for witches desiring to become the ultimate femme fatale. And in their ad, they promised to grant that wish, along with one or two success stories. Their photographs of the women before visiting the spa were drooping, depressed, and sometimes sobbing poor creatures. But strolling around and confidently posing were the "after" pictures. They reminded Hermione of the celebrities in the muggle world who had gone slightly overboard with make-up. But even so, she had been intruiged.  
  
The treatment had not been cheap. But Hermione had been preparing for that. Gathering her last few galleons, she had managed to scrape off enough money to afford the therapy. They had a difficult time with Hermione (especially her mane of brown hair) and wouldn't stop scowling, but she didn't take it to heart. Had she been an easy costumer, she most likely would've left the spa with so much make-up and hair color, it would look as if she had been beaten and abandoned to live on the streets. The actual result however, was rather pleasing, if she didn't' say so herself. It was not overly gaudy, but it still allowed her to stand out favorably.  
  
She flopped back onto her bed and mused to herself what Ron and Harry's reactions would be. Her face screwed in concentration. It puzzled her that she had no idea whatsoever. Not even a guess at what they would do when they'd see her. Fearing a negative response, she wondered whether she should send them an owl to tell them before hand. But a mischievous voice inside her told her not to spoil the surprise.  
  
Happiness bubbled inside of her as she picked up her potions book once again. Book lists had arrived not so long ago, meaning school was only but a few weeks away. The thought urged her to continue reading, attempting to absorb every word.  
  
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Ron groaned. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror. His robes were once again about six inches too short.  
  
"Mum!" he shouted, "I need new robes!"  
  
Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasly, poked her head out from a crack in the door. Judging from her look, they hadn't the money to afford new robes for him. It wasn't as if he suspected them to.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you can borrow one of Bill's old robes", she said uneasily. He'd been expecting that.  
  
"Mum, don't be silly!" scolded a new voice. Mrs. Weasly gazed in surprise at Fred. George appeared shortly beside him.  
  
"I'm sure we can bust up enough money to buy him a new set of robes. We're not THAT deep in poverty", George said, grinning.  
  
Mrs. Weasly frowned. "Is this money coming from your Joke Shop?" she pronounced Joke Shop as if it her forbidden.  
  
The twins hadn't a choice but to inform their mother of their plans after they'd run out of school two years ago. Mrs. Weasly had put up quite an argument, but the twins miraculously escaped scratch-free and with permission to continue their business, as long as it was not to pose as their lifetime career. But that still didn't stop Mrs. Weasly from glaring sourly at the idea every time it was mentioned.  
  
"You shouldn't spend your money so frivolously", scowled their mother, obviously trying to find any excuse against anything related to the Joke Shop.  
  
"We're not spending it 'frivolously', Mum", Fred replied a matter-of- factly.  
  
"Shouldn't it be classified as more of a necessity? Ron needs new robes, so we'll get him new robes. Besides", George added with a snicker, "he looks absurd with the hem floating a foot off the ground. Sort of gives the image of a dress, doesn't it?" George lifted his foot away from Ron's angry stomp.  
  
Mrs. Weasly sighed. She'd lost again. Would she ever win?  
  
Fred grinned from ear to ear. "Well now, shall we go then?"  
  
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Harry lay dully on his bed, staring at the ceiling of the house of number four Privet Drive. Vernon's irritatingly proud compliments floated up into his room.  
  
"Young champ in the making!" he beamed. "You make Daddy proud, Dudley!"  
  
"Oh, Duddikins!" wept Petunia. "You're growing up so quickly!"  
  
Dudley had apparently won another medal in a boxing tournament he had attended not too long ago. And since then, Vernon and Petunia had never stopped cooing, sobbing, or shouting proudly at their son. Harry snorted. He knew Dudley would never tell his parents that every child who participated in the tournament received a medal as a consolation prize; had he truly won, he would've returned with a trophy.  
  
Harry decided to write a letter to Ron to lift his mood. It was a rather lengthy one, asking him how his summer was so far, how Fred and George were doing, and when they were going to go and buy new books. He signed the letter and tied it to Hedwig's outstretched leg. Giving the beautiful a couple gentle strokes before she left, he watched her flap gracefully into the distance. He wished he too could fly.  
  
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A boy with slick blond hair and hauntingly silver irises skimmed the fabrics available in Madam Malkins Robes. Usually his father would be here with him, but due to circumstances, he was not to be seen in public. The world knew he was a Death Eater now. All because of Harry Potter. He grimaced.  
  
"Don't like that one?" Madam Malkin asked.  
  
He looked up, embarrassed, but caught himself. "No", he replied curtly, although it had been one of his favorites. The woman didn't question him.  
  
He skimmed some more, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He didn't particularly miss his father. Had his father been present, the conversation would no doubt be about his falling grades and his below average marks on the O.W.L.s. All except for potions of course. He mused over whether Potter had done any better. He smirked. No, of course not. Not that scum. Weasly was out of the question as well. The smirk grew wider. No matter what they'd do, they would always be out of his league. He concluded smugly.  
  
But Granger. That was a different matter. He had a strong urge to growl. That mudblood didn't have the right to surpass him at anything. The very thought of it scorched his pride. Never had he met such an infuriating person, shoving in his face again and again of his failures. And the most agitating part; she wasn't even aware of it. His parents never really cared much about his grades until they heard word of Granger's success. More so since she was a mudblood.  
  
But he caught himself once more. Don't let yourself get so worked up Draco, he told himself. Someone like that was not worth his emotions.  
  
"This one", he said, placing a finger on the most expensive material he could find. Madam Malkins immediately lifted the fabric from the display shelf and grabbed her measuring tape from her pocket.  
  
Draco stood the stool and held his arms out dully as the measuring tape zoomed around him. His thoughts drifted once more. But all three of them he found something strongly irritating about. Harry and his heroism and constant fame, Ron and his loving family, Hermione and her academics, they all angered him. But he relaxed. It was his last year at Hogwarts after all. He was going to make it worthwhile.  
  
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Only about twenty minutes after he sent his letter, Hedwig came swooping back in, with a short messy reply:  
  
We're picking you up in twenty minutes.  
  
Harry gasped and checked his watch. Is he was right, Hedwig's flight had already taken ten minutes at the least and now he had - ten minutes. He began throwing his things into his trunk. Robes, quills, parchment, they all flew in a frenzy into his luggage. He did all this by hand. He hadn't quite mastered that one packing spell, even it was his last year at Hogwarts.  
  
He glanced around his room quickly, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything when a question aroused in his brain.  
  
How WERE they going to arrive?  
  
Harry grew nervous. He thought of the time when the Weasly's had arrived through Floo Powder. No words could describe it other than an absolute mess. Brooms were definitely out of the question. It was broad daylight and if the neighbors saw a bunch of redheaded persons riding on brooms floating in the air...well, he tried not the think about it. He wondered if they could use a port key. Nah, he told himself. They needed to register it with the ministry first and go through all the paper work. It wasn't worth just picking up Harry to go shopping. So Harry, wondered, how WOULD they get here?  
  
He didn't have to wait long. A loud screeching noise sounded outside his window. Hedwig fluttered in alarm and Harry stuck his head out to see. A crazy old banged up car swerved dangerous toward the driveway of number four Privet Drive. Inside it he could see about six panicked heads full of flaming red hair. He grinned.  
  
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AN: YAY!!! Done!!!!! I'm actually pretty proud of this fic. So many fics about everybody falling in love with Hermione but I found it highly unbelievable that Hermione could be so loved all of a sudden. She needed some sort of makeover. So I gave her one!!!!! ^__________^ ::grin grin:: and while I was reading other fics, I also didn't like the way they made Draco all sappy and totally OOC. Draco's just not meant to be that way......T_____T I don't know how to work in the Ron/Hermione context though. And I have NO idea what to do with Harry. Harry and Ginny pairings kind of freak me out personally.  
  
But anyways, enough ranting.  
  
Ja ne!!  
  
~Meow-chan~ 


	2. Saralyne Granger?

            The lax days of summer diminished as quickly as water slipping through fingertips as the Hogwarts students soon found themselves gathered in a growing mass at the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Ron marched up to the enormous train, their carts in front of them. Ron proudly brandished his fine, new set of robes.

            "I can't believe Fred and George actually got mum to let me get new robes," Ron chatted excitedly. "But I think mum's starting to accept that it's not taboo for her sons to own a joke shop."

            "I'm more surprised they went through so much trouble to get you those," Harry rejoined.

            "They've been in a upright mood ever since mum's let them keep the shop you know," Ron said. "Bought loads of stuff already and they still have galleons to spare," Ron added jealously. "Almost makes you want to start a joke shop too."

            "I don't think your mother would like that," laughed Harry.

            Their conversation came to a temporary stop as they proceeded to heave their large trunks onto the train. With each other's help, they managed to fit their baggage successfully and snugly into the compartment. Panting slightly, they  searched for an available seat.

            Harry sifted through the crowd through his crude spectacles and caught snippets of nearby conversations.

            "Did you see...?

            "That girl...who is she...?"

            "...So jealous...!"

            Harry glanced at Ron. Ron looked back with a curious look on his face. Even so, they continued to mill through the crowded compartments and finally found their Griffindor friends: Dean, Seamus, Lee, Neville, and a few others. Neville gave an enthusiastic wave and Harry quickly sat down next to them, Ron following closely behind.

            "Ron! Harry! Good for you to finally make it!" Lee greeted heartily, shifting more to the side to give each of the new boys room.

            "Yeah, the train's so crowded when you don't get here early!" Ron said, giving a worn out pant.

            "That's great but guess what?" Seamus cut in excitedly. He was so bursting with anxiety that he was barely resting on the edge of his seat. Dean seemed to be mimicking him.

            "There's this new sixth year student," Dean started, already out of breath from anticipation, "and she's absolutely gorgeous!" Dean swayed a bit for effect. "I'm not really the kind of person to swoon over a girl, but after glimpsing her, I'd do anything to just look at her again!"

            "Yeah! The moment she walked onto the train, it only took her twenty minutes to get at least ten guys to gather around her!" Seamus added.

            Neville didn't seem as head-over-heels as his companions. "If she's that popular I don't think we'll ever get a chance with her now will we?" he commented skeptically.

            "Don't so pessimistic!" snapped Seamus, his pride wounded.

            "Whatever," Lee said, waving his hand. "I still have my eyes set on Angelina. Plus, I've never seen this girl. Not that I don't trust your judgment," he added sarcastically.

            Before Dean could chide back, Neville piped, "Yeah! I haven't seen her either! She's probably not as great as you think she is!"

            Harry and Ron both sat silently at the sidelines, watching their comrades engrossed in their heated conversation. Harry recalled the bits and pieces of conversation he had caught not too long ago and glanced back at his friends.

            "Hey," Ron interjected. "I've been thinking, doesn't this girl kind of sound like a veela?" he said tentatively. They paused to consider this for only a moment.

            "That's right!" Neville agreed. "She might not be all that on the inside like she is on the outside you know. Beauty's only skin deep," Neville recited, waving his finger.

            "You sound like me ol' gran," sniffed Seamus disdainfully. Neville flushed a bright crimson color.

            The compartment door slid open with a rather loud bang. The Griffindors turned. Ron gave an audible groan and purposely coughed into his fisted hand.

            "That's not very polite, Weasly," drawled a low voice. "I would rather you address me in a more mannerly way, since I _am_ a richer, smarter, and worthier person than you are at about," he shrugged sarcastically, "everything." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

            Ron's ears turned a generous shade of rose, but kept his ground. Through the years of taunts he had received from the ever-so annoying Malfoy had taught him to keep his head high no matter how his pride stung. Unfortunately, no one really noticed the young Weasly's bit of valor.

            Harry gritted his teeth in anger. "You're not wanted here, Malfoy. Whose father is it that's the shameless follower of You-Know-Who?"

            Malfoy blanched, and a silent pink brushed his cheeks. Harry couldn't help but grin snidely. Malfoy growled and regained his footage.

            "At least I'm not a part of a group of foolish boys cooing over a girl in secret," he sneered at Seamus and Dean. "Why don't you just sum up your renowned Griffindor courage and ask her whether you can grovel at her feet?" Malfoy laughed triumphantly at the embarrassed faces.

            Seamus angrily shouted back, in a poor effort to regain his dignity. "If you'd seen her, you'd be crawling on your hands and knees!" Before Malfoy could reply with another snide remark, the compartment door slid open once more.

            A supple young girl in her last year stepped in tentatively. Her eyes were shy and hidden by long raven lashes. Fully lush lips painted with gloss matched her innocently rosy cheeks. A long cascading river of coffee brown curls flowed down her back and over her shoulders. She clutched a bundle of her well-designed dress robe, a nice summer outfit from a well-known Italian witch's robe company. All the boys gaped in awe, even Draco was found absolutely speechless. Her eyes shifted nervously, avoiding their piercing gazes.

            "Oh! I'm-I'm sorry. I think I'm in the wrong-," she spotted Harry. A smile spread across her delicate lips.

            "Harry! I haven't seen you in so long!" She cried running towards him and giving him a gentle embrace. Harry sat stiff and motionless, paralyzed in his seat. The other boys threw vicious glanced at him.

            "Do-do I know you?" Harry stuttered stupidly.

            "Oh," the girl paused for a moment seeming to contemplate something. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, I guess not," she apologized, fingering her earring. It gave her quite an attractive aura with her cheeks crimson and her lips curved into a sheepish smile. Seamus felt as if he would fall from his seat.

            "I guess I mistook you for someone else, sorry," she smiled and held out her hand. "I'm," she hesitated ever-so-slightly, "Saralyne Granger."

            As Harry was too slow to receiver her hand, Draco reached out and folded his own fingers around her open palm.

            "Hello, Saralyne," the slick blonde boy interjected. "Draco, Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."

            The girl looked absolutely shocked, but she didn't shed away from his grasp.

            "You don't want to mix with the wrong sort of people, now do you? _I_ can show you anything you want," he drawled persuasively.

            The girl just recovered from her petrifaction and instinctively slipped her hand out from Draco's firm hold. "Um, I-I'm sorry," she replied quickly. Walking briskly out the door, biting her thumbnail, she exited their wide-eyed compartment with a soft 'chunk!'

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Draco's Point of View

            A stunningly beauteous girl stood only feet away from me. I had never seen anything like her. The fairness of her glowing skin and her silk-like hair entranced me in a wordless hypnosis. The more I stared, the more she blushed, her crimson shade adding to her attractiveness.

            Her eyes wandered away from my gaze, away from the gazes of those around me. Then her eyes rested on someone and a smile lit her beautiful face.

            "Harry!" she exclaimed running to him and giving him an all-too-friendly embrace. I felt the back of my neck grow hot.

            She had obviously run to him for his popular fame, his glory, his wonder. Only that could be the reason she'd ignored everyone except for him. The only difference between he and I is only his scar anyway. He is no better than me and yet why should he receive all that I equally deserved? I felt anger seethe within me.

            "Do-do I know you?" Potter replied dumbly. I silently shouted to god, you see! Witness the stupidity of my foe! Had I that chance to speak to her, I would've chosen words that would've captured her heart in one phrase!

            She was taken aback, perhaps offended by Potter's dimwittedness, but managed to reply back, even go as far as amending his mistake by offering her hand to him. As expected, he stared back at her with the thickness of a brick.

            How could I resist the chance? How could _I_, Draco Malfoy turn down the opportunity to show Harry Potter what a complete failure he really was? Show him that the Malfoys were never to be defeated. Show him how much better off he is as dirt on the soles of my shoes.

            I reached out my pale hand and grabbed the outstretched fingers of the maiden and made my greetings. I'd thought everything had gone as planned. I would win her with my words and she would never even think as to go near Potter ever again. But I was wrong.

            She refused my offer and ran. Why? Had I done something wrong? Was fate reminding me once again that I would never win against Potter? The heroic Potter? The famous Potter? The perfect Potter? At that moment, I think I must have heard the gods laughing at me.

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Harry's Point of View

            I think anyone would've agreed with me if I had said that girl was absolutely gorgeous. I'd admired Cho Chang ever since I first met her, along with the fact that I considered Cho to be a nice and very pretty girl. But the person standing before me wasn't pretty; she was lovely.

            She glanced around nervously, and finally rested her eyes. On me. My heart panicked. I was not made for dealing with girls, I didn't know how to handle them at all. And with widened eyes, I saw her run towards me, her arms outstretched.

            Closer and closer until all I could see was her flying mass of soft earthy curls. Her embrace was gentle yet firm and I found myself paralyzed by the feeling of being enveloped by her arms. She was so close I could smell her sweet scent, which reminded me of daisies on a warm summer day.

            She drew back from me, her smile unfading. I was absolutely dumbfounded. When my throat finally began to function, I stuttered a "Do I know you?" I felt a strong urge to slap myself.

            She paused and replied with a negative, shyness creeping over her once again. To cover her awkwardness, she bravely made introductions, her hand offered to me. As I tried to regain function of my right hand, a pale white one shot out and stole my first handshake with his girl. I glared horrified at Malfoy, undecided at whether I was furious or shocked.

            "Hello Saralyne," he said, his voice oily, as he tasted her name with his tongue. "Draco, Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."

            I could feel the anger burning upon the faces of my friends as they watched, their fists clenched. Ron's ears were a flaming crimson color and his teeth were gritted. I would have bet anything the words running through all our minds were, "How DARE he?"

            What surprised me was the expression that Saralyne      donned on her delicated face as he hand her hand steady, his eyes staring unblinking into hers. Her eyes were practically bulging and her skin grew pale. Her glossed lips were parted in a small oval, allowing her to draw in a breath. I couldn't decide whether she was shocked, disgusted, or absolutely dumbfounded.

            With a swift tug, she drew her hand from Draco's hold, almost by instinct. "I'm sorry..." she breathed hastily and exited the compartment. All of us stared almost satisfactory at Draco's confused, wide-eyed face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AN: hey guys!!!!!!!! Really long chappie huh? I kinda went overboard with the points of view thing but there was just so much I wanted to write and I couldn't if I didn't write in separate points of view. Next chap's gonna probably in Hermione's POV and she'll probably describe the same situation. I hope it doesn't feel repetitive. There are just some things I have to mention through her POV, otherwise we dunno what's going on in that brown-haired head of hers. ^_^ For instance, why'd she change her name to Saralyne and not just reveal that she was Hermione? I plan to make this thing into big whole chaotic mess with a nice twist. Wish me luck, I'll need it. ^^;;;; I'm gonna shoot for a fast paced story so I might run out of ideas as they're written down faster than I can think of them. Just an FYI. ^_^;;;

Hermione: I get a makeover!!! YAY!!!!! ^.^

Draco: You need one.

*Draco is beaten by Hermione's Mallet of Wrath*

Draco: XP;;;;;;;;;

Ron: Yes, die stupid Malfoy!!!!!! :-D *laughs maniacally*

Harry: You need help.......o_O

Me: doesn't everyone? :-)

Harry: you need it in particular. ¬__¬

Me: naaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwww!!!!! 0:-)

Harry: ¬_________¬;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Ja ne!!!

~meow-chan~


	3. Scarier than meese! sort of

Disclaimer: mmm...gummy bears...I mean. I don't own HP. If I did, I'd make silly sexiful pictures of harry potter and draco malfoy. Separate oO Sorry, not into the HPxDM slash...In fact, most of the stuff on the HP fanfic section scares me greatly, but I'm starting to get used to it. It'll only be a matter of time before I become...gasp ONE OF YOU! haha.

is severely beaten by slash fans twitches

Ron's POV….

I've never really taken a liking to girls before, at least not seriously, and never upon first sight. I personally don't believe in that hodge-podge, and I get laughed at my brothers a lot for that. But when I saw that girl, I swear I felt a tug at my heart somewhere, and great wizard, it left me breathless. Thank goodness I let my hair grow long enough to hide my ears, or else she would've seen them bloom a firey shade of red.

She looked a bit shy and unsure of herself, maybe standing on a bit of uneven flooring too. Scanning the room nervously, she found an oasis of confidence in…Harry?

Running like a curly haired puppy, she leapt into his dumbfounded arms. I had better not be the only one there with the phrase, "what on EARTH?" plastered all about my brain. Had I…missed something?

And why…why did I feel "hate" for Harry?

It seems like such a little thing now that I think about it, but I was boiling mad at the time. What was so bloody special about Harry Potter anyway? Well, I suppose that's easy enough: he's talented, famous, friendly, and a wonderful person inside and out. And…that's exactly why I hated him.

I wonder…whether if I were born with a scar on my head and a bank of galleons waiting for me….whether a girl like Saralyne Granger would someday save me her attentions too.

WAIT.

GRANGER?

Oh dear, this is SO very awkward…

I had my checklist in my pocket too, that I kept on glancing at, much like an obsessive compulsive. I had my designer summer robes (dear god, they were expensive), my other winter set packed in my new suede suit case, my books, my wand, my (insert cat's name), and Lapis Lazuli on-the-go make up kit. I fumbled for a compact mirror and looked around to make sure no one caught me gazing shamelessly at myself. Whenever I see girls looking at themselves in their compacts, it always gives off the impression that the girl is absolutely full of herself. A girl like ME, pitiful ol' Hermoine, poking at her cheeks in a mirror would be most definitely a sorry site indeed. So I huddled off in a corner and glanced curtly at my reflection.

I gasped silently. That face still gives me the shivers every time I look at it. Hermione Granger…no one would recognize you! Yes…I gave the mirror one last grim stare before I tapped it shut. I guess…I'm still the bushy old nerd of a girl to them…they wouldn't even believe me if I told them the truth…would they?

I stuffed my things back into my bag and wheeled my suitcase behind me as I approached the train. Everywhere I looked, I saw eyes, like knives, stabbing and impaling me with their stares. It took more energy than I expected to make it all the way to the luggage boxcar. Taking my change of robes with me onto the train, I walked quicker in hopes of finding a place where I wouldn't have to deal with so many stares…it was frighteningly nerve-wracking.

My foot finally touched the rusted surface of the train and I exhaled in relief. I made it this far…a small millimeter closer to finished the school year. It was still SOMETHING…

I blinked. Without further thinking, my body managed to auto-pilot itself right in front of the Griffindor boxcar and before I could stop myself I twisted the knob and opened the door. It smelled beautifully welcoming, the hint of cinnamon and maple wood that reminded me so much of Hogwarts. Expecting a smile or a wave, I was justly shocked at the silence that enclosed me. For a moment, I'd seriously considered being in the wrong boxcar.

Belittled by the silence, incoherent mumbles bubbled from my mouth. "Oh, uh, sorry…I think, I think I'm in the wrong—"

A tiny glint tugged at the corner of my eye as I shakily looked about the room. Who could mistake those horrendously misshapen glasses covering those cool foresty eyes? I almost melted with the joy of recognition. This was Griffindor, and this was where I belonged. I pummeled myself toward Harry and, to my own surprise, gave him an astoundingly friendly hug. I was perhaps, I lot happier than I thought I was…

Under my arms, Harry stiffened, his hands hovering at my sides quivering. My joy evaporated. How could I forget…no one knows me here, Hermione Granger is no more. I faltered and gathered myself together and pulled away from a statue-like Harry Potter. He stared back at me with glazed eyes. It scared me really…more than the brutal stares of everyone else that I'd passed today. Perhaps because he'd never looked at me like that before; I couldn't quite pin it down, but there was something in that shade of green that made me want to look down at the floor.

Recovering and putting on a trying smile, "Sorry, I mistook you for someone else." That's right, this time I would start out new. I would start out like the first fresh sprout of spring, I wouldn't be Hermione any more.

"I'm—"

But, oh dear…who was I supposed to be then? Curses, I'm terrible at improvisation. I bit my lip.

"Saralyne…Granger" Aw fizzlebang, I just couldn't think of a graceful last name. Perhaps…no, maybe this is better. I can explain the absence of "Hermione" better with the same last name. A sister perhaps? Oh no, that wouldn't make much sense would it…a cousin! A cousin would right and do the trick! Oh, I'll sort it all out later, but I felt a lot better about myself.

I held out a hand of friendship ironically, to my 6-year long companion, who stared at me blankly with that same awfully spine tingling stare. My hand wavered in the air as I fought the urge to cover my face with something. I swear, he must have been reading my mind with that deep unblinking pair of eyes…

A pale snow-hued hand slid unnoticed into mine and curled its icy cold fingers around my hand. I inhaled sharply and found myself staring directly into my most despised enemy of all: Draco Malfoy. His name was as slick as the oil he used to sleek his hair back. I grinned snakily at me from the corner of his mouth and I nearly screamed. He looked no different than a lizard looking sideways at his trapped and helpless prey, cool, distinct, and utterly terrifying.

Even HE glared and grinned at me with in same disturbing way as Harry, except well, being Draco Malfoy, I found his smiles much more threatening. Was he trying to play another stupid joke on me? Where was that infamous Malfoy smirk? God, I hated that smirk, it made you feel like you were being squished underneath his shoe, along with the rest of the muggle world. However, under that predator-like gaze, I couldn't sum up any strength at all, not even enough to sustain my fake smile.

All I could feel was the blood pumping inside my head and the iciness radiating from his palm. My mind was growing cloudy now and I stopped thinking entirely. Swiping my hand away, I mumbled my apologies, and ran out of the boxcar, forgetting to wave goodbye to Ron and Harry.

What on EARTH was Draco Malfoy doing? Curse that boy to the underworld, but I swore that was the first time he was actually nice to me. I squeezed and slapped at my cheeks. NO WAY was he nice intentionally! If I told him I was Hermione, I swear he would've just up and puked on my shoes right in that boxcar. Silly Hermione, Draco's just a self-serving bastard that's never had the capacity to like someone in his life. You better remember that…

AN: that's right Hermione! He's just a BASTARD! O gaspgaspgasp

Draco: Why thank you. :blush:

Me: oO

Harry: I'm not a bastard. I'm the hero of everything! D

Ron: bastard.

Harry: …

Me: aren't we all just pretty little bastards.

But anyways, this chappie was bad. Because frankly, as I age, I get dumber. I'm being truthful here. Comment if you like, flame if you want me to cry in my little hole. (


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